


Are You Ready To Talk?

by itsaspnthing



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2019 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Breaking and Entering, Cunnilingus, F/M, FBI Agent Dean Winchester, FBI Agent Sam Winchester, Finger Sucking, Interrogation, One Night Stands, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Purgatory Dean Winchester, Smut, Spanking, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2019, Vaginal Fingering, belt spanking, shape shifter, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 11:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17866013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsaspnthing/pseuds/itsaspnthing
Summary: Sam and Dean are on a shifter case in your town, and the victim just so happens to be your roommate. Dean is still dealing with the ramifications of purgatory, so when he finds out that you're keeping something from him, he won't hold back to get what he needs.





	Are You Ready To Talk?

**Author's Note:**

> SPN Kink Bingo 2019  
> Square Filled - Purgatory!Dean

“Dean!” Sam shook Dean to try and wake him up from whatever nightmare he was having. “Dean, wake up,” he grabbed his shoulder, “it’s not real.” 

Dean ran through the gray forests, blood covered his face and vampires chased him. Once they were too close, Dean turned around and fought the vampires with Benny. 

Finally, he woke up and gasped for air. Sitting up, he saw Sam sitting on the edge of the bed. The look on Sam’s face showed nothing but concern for Dean. The night terrors scared him just as much as they scared Dean. He wished he could make him better, but this was one of those things that could only be healed with time. 

It had been two weeks since Dean escaped purgatory and wound up in the middle of nowhere with his new friend Benny. The flashbacks were so vivid – as were the dreams. His eyes were still sensitive to light. That was the thing about purgatory. There was no sunshine. Just gray. 

“Sam,” Dean yawned and pulled the blankets off, “what’s wrong?” Dean always tried to make it seem like he didn’t remember his nightmares. He hoped he wasn’t screaming in his sleep. He hoped Sam didn’t know. 

“Really, Dean?” Sam looked at him and stood up. “You know, I realize that you’re having a tough time with this.” 

“With what?” Dean snapped. “What Sam, what am I having a hard time with?” His voice was loud and gravely. He was upset. He didn’t want to talk about it, but Sam could never seem to let it go. 

“Forget it,” Sam started towards the door. “I’ve got a case in Colorado. I’ll be back in a few days.” 

“No, no,” Dean stood up from his bed, “I’m going with you.” 

After a few minutes of protesting from Sam, they finally agreed that he should tag along. They set some ground rules while they packed their belongings into the Impala. Dean was not allowed to talk to witnesses. He was in charge of research, and Sam was in charge of asking questions. 

Dean was driving, and Sam was in the passenger side. They were in a small town in Colorado. 

“So,” Dean kept his eyes on the road, “what do we got, Sammy?” 

Sam looked down at the papers on his lap. “Y/N Y/L/N, aged 24, found her roommate dead when she got home from work.” He looked at Dean and then back down to the papers. “Victims name was Sarah Montgomery, also 24, cause of death asphyxiation.” He looked confused all of the sudden. “Get this,” Sam started, “the fingerprints around her neck belonged to her boyfriend, but he has an alibi.” 

Dean shrugged, still focusing on the road. “Could be lying.” 

“He was at work, and everyone he worked with that night vouched for him.” Sam responded. 

“So, we got a shapeshifter.” He pulled into the motel parking lot and opened the door. “Great.” He said sarcastically. 

It was late morning when you decided to get up and clean the apartment. The apartment was empty without your roommate, and a lot more expensive now. You had to work late tonight, so you decided to clean the place and relax before your shift. 

You put on old, comfy clothes, and turned the radio on and started to scour the kitchen first. When suddenly, there came a knock at your door. You ignored it at first - you figured it was a reporter, or a Jehovah’s Witness. You turned the music up a few decibels and went back to cleaning. A few moments later there came another knock. 

“Jesus Christ,” you mumbled to yourself, throwing the broom on the ground. You were frustrated. You were mad. Your best friend is dead, and you just wanted to be left alone.

When you opened the door you were pleasantly surprised to see two tall, handsome men standing before you. One was tall with long dark hair, and the other was slightly shorter with short hair. You thought to yourself, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” But you didn’t dare say that out loud. Instead you didn’t say a word. You just gave them a “may I help you” look. You widened your eyes and crossed your arms across your chest and waited for one of the tall drinks of water to say something. 

“Uhhhh,” the taller one stammered reaching in his pocket. “Are you Y/N?” He and his partner both pulled out FBI badges. 

You nodded your head and invited them in. 

“So,” you poured the agents two cups of coffee. “Agent…” you trailed off because you couldn’t remember their last names. 

“Oh,” the short haired one said, after taking a swig of coffee. “I’m sorry. I’m agent Osbourne and this is my partner agent Cooper.” 

The two of them sat at your coffee table and you sat across from them, cross legged on the floor. They asked you questions about Sarah. Who she was dating. Where she worked. What she did in her spare time. There were a couple things you didn’t answer though, you just told them you didn’t know. But you knew. 

Your best friend, Sarah, she had a boyfriend, but she wasn’t exactly loyal to him. She was having a secret liaison with a man who she adored, but was married and had children. You tried to talk her out of it time after time, but she never listened. You didn’t want the affair to get out. It would break her parents’ heart, and it would break her boyfriend’s heart. 

Her boyfriend, Nick, was so good to her. You didn’t want him to hate Sarah now. She was gone, and there was nothing you could do to bring her back. But deep down, you knew that her married man had something to do with her death. 

When agent Osbourne and Cooper left, they seemed flustered. Agent Osbourne got loud a few times during questioning. You felt like you were being grilled, put on the spot. You told them it was time to leave. Agent Cooper apologized for his behavior, and they left. You noticed their car didn’t seem very “government official.” It was a classic. A 60-something Impala. A car like that wasn’t meant for FBI agents. 

Once you finished cleaning the apartment it was time to go to work, and that sucked even worse than being grilled by two FBI agents all afternoon. 

By the time you got home from work it was pushing eleven o’clock. You couldn’t wait to take a hot shower, get in your comfies and watch a movie in bed. 

You unlocked the door to your apartment, and took a look around. You always forgot to turn the lights on when you leave, and coming home to a dark house is always slightly unsettling. You used your hands to guide you to the light switch on the wall, and when you flipped the light on you saw agent Osbourne sitting on the couch with his feet resting on the coffee table, shoes still on. 

When you saw him you jumped and put your hand on your chest to make sure your heart was still pumping blood through your veins. “Agent!” You said breathily. “Wh-wha,” you stammered. You were slightly terrified, but you couldn’t deny that he was attractive. Still, a strange man somehow got into your apartment with the doors locked. You had a lot of questions. “What,” you walked towards him. “What are you doing here?” 

He stood up. He seemed a lot taller now that his partner wasn’t standing next to him. Where was his partner? 

He was in street clothes too, a blue jacket, a red flannel, and worn-out jeans. “You,” he laughed, “You’re not the one asking me questions here, sweetheart.” He inched closer to you. Closer. Closer. Each step he took towards you, you took one backwards. You smiled and giggled nervously. “O-okay.” Your back reached the wall. “Ask away.” You forced a smile. 

He was now an inch away from your face. He crouched down so he was eye level with you and rested his palms on his knees. He pouted his lips and asked, “Who was Sarah dating?” You rolled your eyes and arched your neck so your head was now resting against the wall, your eyes focusing on the ceiling. You had to avoid his green-eyed gaze. It took everything out of you to not kiss him. “I’ve already told you,” you said, exasperated. “Sarah was dating Nick, they were together for six months, and that’s literally all I know.” You returned your head back to an upright position to meet his gaze. He wasn’t buying it. 

He stood up and turned around to walk away from you. “Ya see, doll,” he turned back around to face you once he was a few feet away from you, “that doesn’t exactly work for me.” He crossed his arms across his chest. 

“Yeah?” You were angry now. This man broke into your house and is now giving you a hard time. “Tough.” You walked towards the door and when you finally approached the door and turned the knob he was behind you and slammed it back shut. You were still facing the door and his arms were on either side of you. You were trapped. “What do you want from me. Agent?” You put emphasis on the word “agent” to show him that you knew he wasn’t and FBI agent. You turned back around and flashed him a cheeky grin. “I’m not gonna say it again,” you ducked under his arm to escape his reach, “it is time for you to go.” 

He smiled and raised his eyebrows. “Hun,” he reached in his back pocket, you followed his arm to see what it was he was reaching for, “I’m not going anywhere.” You were startled when you felt an electric shock run through your whole body. 

When you woke up, you were cold. Really cold, actually. And when you finally snapped out of it, you remembered what just happened between you and the wanna-be FBI agent. You tried to sit up, but you quickly realized you couldn’t move. You wrists were tied above you. 

“Rise and shine,” you heard his deep voice and it shook you to the bone. “Are you ready to talk, or is it still gonna take some doin’?”  
You were in your basement, and your wrists were tied to the rafters. Your feet were on the concrete, cold and wet. And you should’ve worn a longer shirt because your reach was causing your shirt to ride up almost to your chest. 

The man was standing close to you, but not too close. 

“You’re not an FBI agent,” you said. “You broke into my home, tazed me, and tied me up in my basement,” the aggravation in your voice was obvious, “and you want me to talk? Ever hear of going out for coffee before you take this step?!” You shouted, and your voice echoed through the dank basement. 

He didn’t say anything. He just laughed. 

“This is funny?” You rolled your eyes and scoffed. He stepped closer to you and wrapped his hand around your face, squeezing one cheek with his thumb and the other with his fingers. He brought his face close to yours, noses almost touching. “Now you listen to me, and you listen good,” he squeezed your face harder now. “You’re going to tell me everything you know, because I know there’s more.” He smiled and you felt your eyes swell and form tears. 

He shushed you gently. “That’s not going to work,” he said. “I am not leaving here until you tell me.” 

He released his grip on your face, and you looked down to the ground. You were crying. Not because you were afraid of this man, even though something told you that you should be. No, you were crying because he knew he was going to force you to tell him. 

Your head was still down when you shook your head. “You don’t understand,” a single tear flowed down your cheek. “Sarah was my best friend and if I tell you what I know, and it gets out, her reputation will be destroyed.” He began to unbutton your jeans and you squirmed to try and get him to stop. “Please, please don’t do this.” He pulled your jeans and panties down to your ankles and delivered a hard smack to you bare ass. The sting was intense. You knew where this was going. 

“Spanking?” You scoffed. “Really?” 

He looked at you and he seemed confused. “What’s the matter, Agent?” You said with another cheeky smile. “Cat’s got your tongue?” You giggled. You were openly laughing at him. This pissed him off and he started to undo his belt. 

You looked up at the ceiling and groaned, knowing what was about to happen. You giggled and tightened your body in anticipation before the cold, hard snap of leather met your backside. And again. And again. You were starting to sweat, but nowhere near broken. In fact, you chuckled, and looked down. You let out a long, loud sigh. “That’s it, Daddy, spank me.” 

He raised one eyebrow, almost stunned at this comment. He was starting to get annoyed, and he knew you were antagonizing him. He slowly walked around you, his loud footsteps lingering. Once he was facing you, he quickly wrapped his large hand around your throat. His face was scrunched and his eyebrows were furrowed. 

You gasped as his palm pressed against your larynx and fingers squeezed the side of your neck. You could see it in his eyes. You wanted to antagonize him a little more before he cut off blood flow to your brain. You smiled at him once more. 

He grunted and released his grip. He walked away from you and put his hand up to his mouth when he turned to face you once more. “Listen,” he walked towards you again, “there is something you’re not telling me.” You rolled your eyes at him. He wasn’t going to let it go. 

“You’re going to have to be a little nicer than this, Agent.” He responded by nodding his head once. He was thinking, and he was thinking hard. 

His loud footsteps were circling your bound body once more. You followed him with your head. Each time he was at your side you would smirk at him. And finally, when he was behind you, the footsteps stopped. 

“You want me to be nice to you, Y/N?” he kicked one of your legs open with his foot. “Is that what you want?” He kicked the other one open with his other foot. He reached up with his left arm and ran it down your arm, down your side while the other hand wrapped around your waist. He nuzzled his face into your neck and breathed in your sent. Once his arm reached your hip, he caressed your waistline. “Is this what you want?” He rested his hand on your mound and you nodded your head. 

“Speak!” He exclaimed before delivering a quick, sharp slap to your folds. 

You shrieked. “Yes!” You brought your head back and rested it against his chest. “Yes, please.” 

He chuckled evilly, and gently rubbed your clit with the pad of his forefinger. You moaned quietly and spread your legs wider. He smiled, but you couldn’t see it. Your head was still resting on his chest, but your eyes were closed. 

He reached up to grasp your neck with the hand that wasn’t working your clit. You gasped and your knees started to buckle. When he saw the desperation in your eyes, he entered one long finger into your cunt. “Oh, my God!” He said loudly, and then he laughed. He was laughing at you. “You filthy little slut. How long have you been turned on, huh?” 

He fucked you harder and faster with his finger, and rubbed your clit even faster. “Tell me, sweetheart.” His voice was straining from working you with his fingers. “Was it when you saw me sitting in your living room?” He went even faster now, and you moaned. “Fuck!” You shrieked. 

He ignored your moans, and curses. “No, no it had to be when you woke up tied up in your own basement.” 

Your moans sped up, and he didn’t stop. “Oh my God, fuck.” 

“Or was it when I smacked your ass? Or when I-” He grabbed your throat once more “-did this? It seemed like you liked it when I did this.” He squeezed harder. You were getting close. You felt your orgasm build in the pit of your stomach and your nerve endings tingle. “Oh fuck, don’t stop.” Your voice was strained as his palm constricted your voice box. You finally reached the precipice of your release. And he stopped.

He laughed wickedly, and walked away from you. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He said. But you didn’t respond. You just kept your head down and tried to catch your breath. He walked towards you. “Hey!” The loudness of his voice made you jump, but you didn’t look at him. You kept your head down. 

He snapped his fingers quickly, and lightly slapped you in the face. “Hello? Y/N?” You looked up at him, your eyes were heavy and your hair was stuck to your face from the sweat and tears. “I’m not done with you.” 

He quickly undid the restraints, and held you up. He picked you up and threw you against the wall. He kissed you and lifted you in his arms. You moaned in his mouth and wrapped your tired legs around his waist. He found the closest thing he could set you down on - your washing machine. He quickly undid his pants and flannel without breaking the kiss. 

He knelt down on the cold cement floor, and opened your knees with his hands and delivered a few licks to your dripping core, and entered two fingers. “Gotta stretch you out a little bit, hun.” You giggled, and he stood up and quickly put his bulging cock inside of you. You grabbed on to the edge of your washing machine and threw your head back as his length hit your g-spot. He cupped your cheek with his hand and watched as he fucked you. 

When he picked up the pace, you started to slide off the machine, so he gripped your legs to hold you. “Oh fuck, baby,” he moaned. Your mouth was open and you looked him deep in his emerald green eyes. You were speechless and breathless. He continued hitting your spot over and over again until you thought you couldn’t take anymore. 

He stuck one long finger in your open mouth and got in wet before rubbing on your clit with his now lubricated finger. “Oh my God!” You cried out. “Fuck! Fuck, I’m close.” You moaned and squeezed his torso tighter with your sweat-covered legs. “I’ll tell you everything, just please let me cum!” 

He chuckled and smiled widely. He knew he was about to get what he wanted. “If I let you cum, you’re going to give me what I want.” It wasn’t a question. You didn’t have a choice. You needed to cum. 

Once more you felt your orgasm build in your stomach, it came quickly this time. Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you shrieked loudly and you were inching closer to your orgasm. “Please! Fuck!” Within seconds you dripped and came on his cock, and he finished inside you. 

You both sat there for a moment to catch your breath. He was still inside you and his head was resting on your chest. "You have no idea how badly I needed that." He said, still trying to catch his breath. "Thank you." 

"No problem," you smiled. "But how did you even get in here in the first place?" You asked. "Is this how you pick up all your girls?" He laughed at that comment because he now realized how crazy he's been acting. 

"No," he looked at you, "I've just been going through a bit of a rough patch." He seemed apologetic when he gazed into your eyes. "So, I'm sorry for scaring you, I just haven't quite been myself lately." 

"It's okay, but next time just call me so I can let you in," you smiled, knowing good and well there wasn't going to be a next time. He gave you a half smirk because he knew it too. 

Dean moved away from the washing machine so you could get off and you both got dressed. "Come upstairs, I'll get you some coffee." 

In the kitchen you told him everything over coffee. You told him about Sarah’s affair with the married man. He seemed relieved, happy, and much nicer than he was before.

Once the coffee ran dry, you walked him to the front door to let him out. Before he walked out, he turned to face you, cupped your face and kissed your cheek. “I’m Dean, by the way.” You smiled. 

“Well, Dean, it was nice to meet you.” You responded. And before you knew it, he was gone. You knew you were never going to see him again. Too bad, because that was the best sex you've ever had.


End file.
